“Nah, nothing like that. I just heard youwere down here playing sky paddle, and since you’ve bragged twicealready about how great you are at it, I wanted to see formyself.”
“Twice?”
“Once with the ambassador, and once at thebirthday party in the hangar.”
“The hangar . . .” She folded her arms acrossher chest. “What does that mean? You were there?Invading my privacy?”
He flashed a sexy smile. “I was checking outthe skirmisher when you came in and started talking to the giant. Ididn’t want to embarrass you, so I kept quiet. It was nice,” headded sincerely. “Especially when you promised Quito you’d behave.So after you left, I made a promise too. Want to hear it?”
She moistened her lips. “I guess so.”
“I told him I’d make sure nothing happened toyou. It was just a throwaway remark at the time, but now that youmight go to Malara, I figured I’d better find out how bad off youreally are.”
“I’m not going to Malara,” she said, hopinghe couldn’t see how flustered she was. “You’ll have to send me avid card. I hear it’s a fascinating place. Be sure to pack an airpurifier.”
Merry tapped her on the shoulder. “Don’t weget to meet your new hero?”
“He’s everyone’s hero,” Zia retorted. “Threemedals in one day—an academy record. Say hello to the famous CadetStone.”
“It’s Lieutenant Stone now,” he correctedher.
“Lieutenant?” She glanced pointedly at hisbare torso. “Hard to tell from your uniform.”
Rem grinned. “Sorry.”
She wanted to remain cool but found herselflaughing as her friends mobbed him, asking him questions,specifically about the graduation parties, and how manygood-looking, unattached friends he might have.
After introductions were officially complete,Bea demanded, “What’s in the bag, Lieutenant? Tell me it’s food andI’ll be your love slave. I’m starved.”
“Sorry, we’re both out of luck.” Turning toZia, he spilled out the contents of the duffel—boots, gloves, and apaddle. “Like I said, I’m here to see what you’ve got,talent-wise.”
“You want to play me? Why?”
“Just in case you need to step up.”
“Just in case—oh!” She grabbed him by the armand pulled him away from her friends. “I didn’t say anything tothem about that. It’s crazy, so don’t mention it.”
“In other words, you’re afraid?” His blueeyes twinkled. “I’ll give you a two-point lead, and we can usecivilian rules. And no shots over the water. How about that?”
“I’m not afraid. And I don’t need a lead. Ican earn that on my own.” Biting her lip, she added carefully,“What’s the height limit if we use military rules?”
“Twenty feet. And thirty feet out to sea. I’mnot suggesting that—”
“Why not? Sounds like fun.” She put her handson her hips and grinned. “Boot up, Stone. Time to see whatyou’ve got.”
* * * *
Annoyed with himself for goading her intomilitary rules, Rem insisted on checking Zia’s air boots and chute,readjusting the latter carefully to ensure it was properlypositioned. He knew he was making her nervous, and he knew why—shehad an unbelievable body, and the pink bikini showed off everycurvy inch of it. She probably thought he was enjoying the show—notto mention the feel—and he was. But he forced himself toconcentrate on her safety rather than the way her breasts werespilling out of her suit.
Not that he could ignore the bountycompletely. “How old are you?” he asked almost instinctively.
“I’ll be eighteen the week after next, sodon’t worry.”
“Huh?”
“If I need to go to Malara, I won’t needanyone’s permission.”
He grinned, relieved that she hadn’t caughthis subtext. “That’s good news. And your equipment looks great, solet’s get started. But if you get into any trouble—”
“Worry about yourself,” she said with asniff.
He grinned again. Apparently, she reallydid have guts. That might matter—a lot—if she had to go toMalara, even if it was just for show.
Barring complete disaster, she’d never seethe inside of a giant. And even if she did, she’d have a skilledpilot on comm with her, guiding and advising at every turn. Shewouldn’t need any independent strategy or instincts, but she’d haveto stay cool and take orders well. That alone would be a strugglefor any civilian, much less a pampered, immature one.
And he was beginning to see that she had areckless streak. Not necessarily a bad thing in a pilot if thetraining was there. But for an amateur?
“I meant what I said. I’m here to check outyour reflexes and coordination, not fight with you. So let’s justhave a friendly volley, okay?”
“Whatever you say.” She tossed her long,tangled hair, then activated her jets and elevated until she washigh above the sand.
Gutsy, he noted again. She’s reallygoing to take this match to twenty feet. Let’s hope no one has astall.
“Good luck, ZeeZee!” Merry shouted.
“Yeah, make him cry like a girly-bitch!”Charlotte screamed, waving wildly.
Rem jetted up to face his opponent. “Classyfriends you’ve got there.”
She flashed a mischievous smile. “Ready?”
“Any time.”
She pretended to serve it straight up, but atthe last second sent it sailing over the water—a move that made Remchuckle as he sped after it. She was good.
Amazing, actually.
This was going to be fun.
* * * *
They buzzed through the air, frustrating eachother at every turn while trading outlandish taunts. Zia wasn’tsure when this had turned from a grudge match into full-onflirting, but she wasn’t about to complain, especially with herfriends screaming encouragement from the beach, and Rem’s musclesstretching and glistening in the noonday sun.
Every time he sent the ball sailing over thesurf, she knew he was hoping she’d miscalculate and crash into thewater. And every time she sent it sky high, they both knew she justloved watching him soar overhead. They were the perfect match—hisastonishing strength and agility against her lighter weight andconsequential speed.
She had only one weakness—her tendency tostop short so abruptly, her jets would stall. But not today. Todayshe was determined to be perfect. To win the match, and maybe evendrive this guy a little crazy in the process.
Then at the most inconvenient momentpossible, as she air-sprinted for a long ball over pounding waves,she was shocked to see a Coast Guard cutter speeding toward her,violating the one-hundred-yard rule,
